


Christmas Miracles

by berryblonde



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Christmas, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, a bit of an idiot plot, but it'll be happy don't worry, there's a tiny smidge of angst, this is all very self-indulgent, this is kind of a hallmark movie but gay and with soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryblonde/pseuds/berryblonde
Summary: After spending two months in Chicago for work, Gavin Reed is ordered home just before the holidays. No matter how much he loves Christmas, flying at the busiest time of the year is not his idea of a good time. The already miserable day is made ever more awkward when he literally stumbles into tall, handsome Connor Stern.Connor who, despite his prickly exterior and open dislike of Gavin’s favorite holiday, is his soulmate.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 86
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheepishwolfy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepishwolfy/gifts), [Chibbers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibbers/gifts), [Clarrolx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarrolx/gifts), [Kuinshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuinshi/gifts), [Shootmewithasilverbullet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shootmewithasilverbullet/gifts).



> Hey! Look, i'm back! does anyone even remember me? anyways. I'm back, and just in time for Christmas and for the decade to end. I really couldn't pass up the chance to write another Christmas fic, so here I am. 
> 
> All thanks to the people I'm dedicating this fic too, because without their encouragement and advice (and them telling me about what coffee orders exists and how airports work) and them helping me with the spelling and grammar, this wouldn't exist and I wouldn't be where I am. Sorry, that got sappy. ANYWAYS. All Shootmewithasilverbullet, sheepishwolfy and Chibbers have some great dbh (convin) works, so if you haven't yet, please check them out!!! Okay, i'm done now.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! I spent a lot of time angsting about it bc i really wanted this to be good, so if you're enjoying it, i'd be incredibly happy if you'd let me know <3 thank you so much and happy holidays to everyone celebrating! I'll be posting the rest over the next few days <3

He rounds the corner, luggage dragging beside him, and he almost slips on the ice.

Gavin is late and he’s well aware of it. Two hours before the actual flight leaves will never be enough, especially with how long he suspects security to take at this time of the year. He huffs and tries to avoid bumping into another person as he races from the bus station into the airport building, feeling his shoes’ weak grip on the ice.

Fuck Fowler for sending him to Chicago in winter, and fuck him for ordering Gavin back just before Christmas when flights are the worst and traffic makes him want to shoot himself in the foot. Meaning, the option to drive back is out of the window.

Gavin wouldn’t have minded spending Christmas in Chicago. It wouldn’t be the first Christmas he had spent alone or working, and there's no soulmate in the picture yet. Sure, he loves the holidays, and he's excited to be spending them with Tina or Eli and Chloe, but god. He would've survived another Christmas alone, there's video chats and phone calls and whatnot after all, and now he’d have to board a packed flight full of annoying adults and screaming children. 

It’s better than driving the almost five hours back to Detroit, he supposes as he almost crashes into the rotating door at the entry of the airport. The urge to glare at the people throwing him weird looks is strong, but he suppresses it.

It’s none of their business anyways, he thinks. When the rotating door has turned enough for him to enter, to squeeze himself past the huddled mass of people leaving the building he firmly grips both of his suitcases and rushes in.

The sound his shoes make on the tiles inside is disgusting. A mushy trail of snow follows him as he races to the counter and gets in line behind the other passengers. 

There’s a small family in front of him and just as he arrives, setting down his suitcase with a loud _thud_ , the baby starts crying.

He gets an apologetic look from the mother, a young woman with eyebags to rival his own and no visible soulmark as far as he can tell, and he can’t be mad at her. It’s not her fault the kid decided to be upset just the minute they saw Gavin’s face, even if it does feel a bit insulting.

Another kid is tugging at her mother’s sweater, and Gavin tries to smile at her. It only causes the little girl to hide behind her mother’s leg. Better to mind his own business from now on, he thinks grimly, running a hand through his damp hair. 

The line moves slowly, but at least the baby stops crying after about ten minutes. He can faintly hear an older lady argue with the desk clerk, and he knows this might take a bit. His leg is bouncing nervously.

_Really should’ve come here earlier_ , Gavin thinks regretfully. But of course, he had to stretch it to the last minute, had to wait in line for way too long to check out of the hotel he had been living in, on the money of the DPD, thank god, for the last two months.

He feels sympathetic when the family in front of him is told that their flight will be delayed, but there’s nothing he can do about it. At least his is on time.

The checkout clerk seems stressed but is fairly nice and helpful, even if she does try to rush him through as fast as possible after taking his luggage and the money for it. _There’s TSA, please get in line there, it might take a while we’re sorry, your flight is boarding from terminal 2, gate F16. A gun? Is it in your checked luggage, in a secure case and with the clip removed? No ammo? Can I see your licence? Do you have any more questions? No? Goodbye and thank you for flying with United Air!_ And with that, he’s ushered aside, left to his own devices.

O’Hare airport is huge, and it seems very easy to get lost. Thank god for the signs pointing towards TSA, and the fact that it’s hard to overlook. There are multiple lines full of people waiting, a lot of less than happy faces.

_Cheer up everyone, it’s Christmas soon_ , he thinks with a bit of sarcasm as he sorts himself into one of the lines and waits.

Waiting for the security check has to be one of the worst parts of flying, and maybe he really should’ve simply driven to Detroit. Too bad he had handed in the keys to the rental car he had received while in Chicago a few days ago already. 

Gavin spends the time waiting by checking his watch and then his phone over and over again, pretending not to listen to a couple’s argument about their marriage troubles, and briefly chatting with the sweet old lady behind him in line.

Apparently she’s visiting her grandchildren in Kansas. He learns more about them than he knows about some of his own family members, but it’s better than staring into the air for the whole hour TSA takes him.

Getting patted down sucks, as it always does. Every time he goes through airport security, Gavin feels a little more sympathy for the suspects he has to search.. He hands the agent his ID and boarding pass, which are all current and real and not fake thank you very much, and spends another few minutes waiting for his belt, shoes, phone, wallet, badge and the carry-on bag he has to be done getting scanned.

It’s a sigh of relief that he breathes out when he’s finally done, grabbing his stuff and wishing the lady who had been behind him in line a merry Christmas and a good flight.

He’s lucky none of his stuff got taken this time, he thinks, and that he made it through without much of a hassle or some TSA agent with a total of two brain cells mistaking his Nintendo Switch for a bomb. Which is precisely the reason, or one of them anyways, why he didn’t bring it. The other one being that he had gone to Chicago for work and not a holiday or a family visit.

Alright. Terminal 2, gate F16. That’s where he has to be right now, considering his flight would board in about fifteen minutes, and he has no idea where exactly it is.

Fucking hell.

He rushes past the various shops inside the airport, briefly snickering when he sees a nun sitting on a bench in front of an erotica store. A very kind older man points him the way to gate F16 and Gavin is incredibly thankful for his help before he hurries along. He might have gotten here late, but he’s still on time, he’ll catch his flight and —

There’s a muffled _thud_ and a yelp as Gavin collides with something — _someone_.

He looks up and sees a scarf full of coffee, and a man glaring down — of fucking course — at him. Before the man, and if Gavin had more time he would’ve definitely appreciated his handsome face, can open his mouth to yell at Gavin he had already taken a step back and started running past the man.

“Sorry about your coffee, dude!” He shouts, walking backwards towards his terminal. “But I gotta go catch a flight!”

With that he turns around and continues running, partly to not miss his flight, partly to get away from the embarrassing situation. 

The terminal is full of people, and all the seats are taken so he stands. He won’t have to wait long anyways, he thinks. At least, until he checks his watch and and then the flight display above his head.

_UA 2407 Chicago to Detroit (DELAYED) Departure: 10:55am_

Fuck.

Not only will he have to wait another two hours at least for his flight, because who knows if the delay time will extend even further, he had also made a fool out of himself in front of a cute guy for nothing.

Wait.

The cute guy. Maybe he’s still somewhere around the airport. It had only been, what? Five minutes since their collision and he hadn’t seemed in a hurry. Maybe Gavin can rush back and apologize and offer to buy the dude another coffee for the one he had ruined. At least it didn’t seem to have burned the man and had only landed on his scarf.

With his mind made up he glares at the flight display one last time before returning to the big hall.

The man is nowhere to be seen and Gavin sighs.

Apparently he's set himself up for a wild goose chase around the airport. But a decision made is a decision made, and he refuses to simply go back to the gate.

Where would he go after such an incident? With clothes full of coffee? 

_The bathroom._

He has to be in one of the restrooms, assuming he's trying to wash the coffee out of his clothes. What if it only hit his jacket and the man already went back to his gate?

It's worth a try, though, Gavin decides.

The first bathroom he finds is crowded, but the person he's looking for isn't among them. He apologizes for bumping into a few people and practically flees. It's the same spiel for a second and third bathroom, until he finally finds who he's been looking for at a fourth one. He almost would've missed it, the entrance hidden behind a huge paper cut out and multiple ads for different shops around the airport.

For a moment, Gavin just stands there inside the mostly empty restroom while he's trying to figure out what to say.

"Hey," he ends up with, hesitant to tap the other man's shoulder. When the man doesn't respond, he says it again, louder this time.

The other seems to finally notice that he's being spoken to and he looks up, meeting Gavin's eyes through the mirror.

He doesn't look happy at all, frantically trying to rinse off his scarf.

"Hey dude, I just wanted to say sorry for what happened earlier," Gavin says awkwardly. "I really didn’t mean to slam into you like that, but y’know, I had to catch a flight and sh—"

"Then why are you here?"

He blinks. Once, twice, then a third time, taken off-guard by the question.

"Flight got delayed," he sighs, annoyance seeping through.

The man's face relaxes and he gives him an understanding smile, and Gavin can feel warmth pooling in his chest.

_Fuck, he's gorgeous when he smiles_ , he thinks, and feels even worse for ruining the man's scarf.

"Mine too," he says. 

"So we're both stuck here, huh?" It's an awkward response but he can't come up with anything better.

"Yeah." With that, he goes back to trying to rinse the coffee out of his scarf.

"Know what," Gavin says after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. "I'll buy you a new coffee for the one I poured all over ya." And maybe he should do something about the scarf too.

The man looks up in surprise. 

"You don't have to," he states.

"Oh no, I want to. We're both stuck here so it's not like we've got anything better to do, and I feel really fucking bad spilling your coffee all over you.

It's not like you can drink it anymore," he adds, hoping to persuade the other.

After a few seconds he sighs.

"Fine," the man says, reaching to turn off the tap. "Do you have a bag?"

"Bag?"

"For the wet scarf?"

The eyeroll is implied, and Gavin can feel his face heating up. Of course the cute stranger thinks he's fucking stupid.

"Nope, sorry. But we can probably get one from one of the stores?"

The stranger nods, putting down the scarf for a bit to dry his hands. When he picks it up again he holds it as if it's something disgusting, but Gavin supposes it's just to avoid getting his hands wet again.

He wordlessly moves towards the door and Gavin doesn't realize he's supposed to follow until the man is halfway out of the door already, turning his head and giving him an expectant look.

Quickly, he scrambles to follow behind.

He trails behind the stranger silently, not sure what to say.

Should he apologize again? Suggest what shop to get a bag from? No, it doesn't really matter, a bag is a bag.

His eyes are looking everywhere but at the stranger's face, only occasionally stealing glances. The gentle smile the man had worn earlier is gone again, replaced by a mask of exhaustion.

Why does he look so grumpy? Gavin wonders. Aside from the obvious, the coffee debacle. 

He's wearing dress pants from what Gavin can tell, so maybe he's not travelling for a family visit but for work.

Maybe he has to leave his soulmate behind while going on a business trip.

He can't make out any strip of color in the man's skin, but he's barely seeing any of it anyways. The only patches of skin visible from under his clothing are his hands, face and neck.

So it's entirely possible that his soulmark is somewhere else.

Gavin isn't even sure why he's thinking so hard about it — it's none of his business anyways, and once Gavin has made up for his stupid mistake, their ways will part and mister fancy pants can be unhappy about his business trip on his own while Gavin sulks at the gate.

Abruptly the man stops in front of the first shop they find, a small store, selling hats and scarves and gloves and the like.

"There we go," the stranger says. "Would you mind going in and getting a bag? I doubt they would let me in with the wet scarf." 

Gavin shrugs. "Sure thing, be right back."

With that he leaves the man, whose name he doesn't even know and damn he really should've asked, standing outside.

The store is warm and the Christmas decorations are lovely. They remind him a bit of the ones Chloe always puts up, just less fancy and well — fewer.

He's sure her and Eli's house looks like a winter wonderland again, and the thought gets him excited to be home.

He walks past display racks and various santa hats before deciding to actually grab another scarf for the man. Nothing as expensive looking as the original , but one nevertheless. A simple, gray one maybe. Without thinking he grabs a striped scarf off one of the displays. he can't really feel whether it's soft or scruffy, but it's cheap and it's not worth the hassle of taking of his gloves for it.

Scarf in hand he goes up to the counter and pays, and remembers to ask for a bag. The clerk has a colorful handprint right across his cheek, and Gavin can't help but wonder what the young man did to upset his soulmate.

Knowing himself, his soulmark will probably look similar.

He tries not to stare as he gets his change and wishes the man a merry Christmas before hurrying out of the store.

The stranger is still waiting outside, wet scarf in hand.

"Here," Gavin says, holding out the bag. "There's… there's a new scarf in there, you know, for the one I ruined."

The man looks puzzled.

"You're aware I can simply wash this one at home, right?"

Damn. No, he hadn't thought about that.

"I just felt bad, okay? Take it or leave it, I don't fucking care." He can feel the heat creeping up on his face.

The man pauses. "Alright, thank you." He grabs the bag, his bare hands brushing Gavin's gloved ones.

"Do I still get that coffee?" There's a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and Gavin can feel himself becoming even redder, for a different reason this time.

The stranger is really fucking cute, and he can't help but be jealous of his soulmate.

"Sure!" He yelps.

The man laughs, and Gavin finds that he really likes the sound.

It's a shame they didn't meet in a bar while they were both in Chicago instead of this awkward situation.

"I was joking."

"No, I promised a coffee, I'm gonna buy you a fucking coffee. I'm a man of my word."

The man shrugs. "It's better than sitting at the gate and waiting for the next notice of my flight being delayed, I suppose."

Gavin decides to take that as agreement to his plan.

"So, where to?"

"There's a café here somewhere, the coffee is pretty good. For airport coffee, that is."

"Sounds good, man."

They walk in silence, the stranger leading the way and Gavin trailing next to him.

It feels weird to constantly just call the other a stranger in his head, but he doesn't have his name and asking now feels awkward. Maybe he'll find out when he orders.

"I'm Connor, by the way," the man interrupts his train of thought.

"Huh?"

"My name. It's Connor."

"Oh? Uh, that's a nice name."

"Thank you."

"I'm Gavin," He adds hastily.

"Nice to meet you, Gavin. I'd shake your hand but — " 

He nods towards the bag he's holding in his right hand.

Makes sense.

"It's all good."

He wants to ask the man where he's going, if he's really on a business trip, or just anything that could constitute as small talk.

There's nothing he manages to come up with that he's happy with until they reach the small coffee shop the man — Connor, that Connor had talked about.

The Christmas decorations that he's been seeing everywhere are missing here, and when they step inside the speakers are playing lo-fi music instead of cheery Christmas songs.

Maybe Connor really isn't a big fan of Christmas.

Sucks for him, Gavin thinks. Christmas might just be another day in the calendar for some, but the time leading up to it, with all the decorations and cookies and the Christmas music? He loves it.

They get in line behind a woman who's furiously typing on her phone.

The line moves slowly, but they reach the counter soon enough.

"What can I bring you?" The barista smiles. "Caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. And…" he looks to Connor expectantly.

"An iced white mocha for me, please."

Gavin's eyes widen. "Iced?" He chokes out before he can help it. Not to mention the sweet abomination the drink is, iced or not.

"Yes, is there anything wrong with that?"

"Who the fuck drinks iced coffee in the middle of winter?"

"I do." Connor calmly looks him in the eye, and Gavin knows who's won this one.

He sighs and averts his eyes, returning his attention to the barista.

"Is that all?" The clerk asks. 

"That'll be all," Connor responds when Gavin doesn't. He wants to interrupt and order something else out of spite, but he restrains himself.

"Are you paying together or separately?"

"Together," Gavin chimes in and the man nods.

"That'll be $11.78 then."

Gavin fumbles out the money and hands the man a ten dollar bill and two ones.

"Keep the change," says.

"Thank you, sir. Can I get your names for the orders?"

"Gavin and," he points to the other with his thumb. "Connor."

"Thank you. Your orders will be ready in a minute."

The barista sets off to make their drinks, and they're once again left to stand there awkwardly.

"Iced coffee? Really? And how much sugar does that thing even have?" 

"I don't see how that concerns you," Connor responds pointedly. "Plenty of people drink sweet, iced coffee."

"Yeah, in the summer! Not when it's freeze-my-balls-off cold!"

"Did you really offer to buy me coffee just to ridicule me for my choices?" 

"It's not like I knew that's what you were going to order!"

"Why are you so hung up on this?" 

Gavin opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Connor is right, why does he care so much about a stranger's coffee order? Why is he so nice to buy him a new scarf (even if it was a cheap, crappy one, but it's the thought that counts) and a new coffee? The man is attractive, yes, but that hasn't been enough to make Gavin act like a bumbling fool since college.

“Yours isn’t exactly a black coffee either,” Connor adds.

“That’s what the espresso shot is for!”

A stern look from the other is enough to stop Gavin from arguing further.

"Fine," he sighs. "Have your sugary nightmare."

There's a small smile tugging at Connor's lips. "Thank you for your approval, Gavin," he says, and it's obvious that he had to hold himself back from grinning.

"Oh, fuck you."

Connor laughs, and Gavin can’t help but think about how nice it is, clear and deep and warm.

Reluctantly, he joins in and they smile at each other for a split-second before they're interrupted again.

"Connor and Gavin, was it? Your drinks." The barista hands them two paper cups, each with their respective name written on it. 

They thank him and the man walks off again to take the next order.

They stand in silence for a good half minute before Gavin speaks up. "So, uh," he begins, unsure what to say. Should he say goodbye? He doesn't know when the other's flight is leaving and his is leaving in a bit more than one and a half hours, a time he can easily kill by himself.

Not that he'd be opposed to the handsome company, but Connor probably isn't too fond of Gavin.

"How about we take a seat?" Connor surprises him. "It's much more comfortable than standing here. Plus, I think we might be blocking the counter a bit."

Gavin nods. "Sure," he says, unable to completely hide is bewilderment.

They find an empty table in the corner next to the big windows and have a seat, setting their beverages down in front of them.

Neither of them speaks, and Gavin can feel himself getting irritated. Why did Connor ask him to continue this whole thing if he doesn't even talk? But it's not like Gavin knows what to say either, so the silence continues to stretch between them.

Connor, in turn, calmly drinks his coffee, occasionally checking his phone, typing something, and putting it back down.

"So," Gavin begins. "Are you going on a business trip?" It's a mundane question, one he hopes won't end in a disaster.

"What makes you think that?"

"The dress pants? I don't know man, I'm just trying to carry a conversation." There's annoyance in his voice, and while he partially feels bad, he also thinks he has the right to be frustrated.

This Connor guy keeps giving him mixed signals about whether his company is appreciated or not.

"I'm sorry, you're right. No, I'm visiting family, unfortunately."

"Does your family suck that much?" Gavin might be overstepping boundaries, but he's curious now.

"My family does not," Connor says pointedly. "I just don't like Christmas."

"What the fuck, dude? Who doesn't like Christmas?! Did your cat die on Christmas or something?"

Connor rolls his eyes.

"Have you ever thought about how commercialized Christmas is? Everyone talks about family and the Christmas spirit but you know what it all really is?" Connor leans forward and he looks almost conspiratory. "Capitalism." He leans back in his seat.

"Everything is plastered in ads, no one actually cares about anyone, do you know any person who actually enjoys gift shopping?"

Before Gavin can disagree, Connor continues his rant and he has to admit, the other is kind of cute when he's worked up like this.

"No one, that's who! But we do it anyways because we are told that going to overpriced stores and spending money on gifts that will get returned half the time anyway is what makes Christmas special.

All this holiday is is an excuse for bosses to overwork workers who are in related industries, and then make most of the profit. Sales skyrocket of course, but the employees are treated like utter shit , families are at each other's throats, and it's simply stress all around for everyone involved.

And what about the people who have to work before, on and right after Christmas and deal with angry customers, escalated family disputes and fires from irresponsibly set up trees? Does anyone think of them? The majority doesn't. Everyone claims Christmas spirit but no one actually cares about anyone but themselves and maybe their families, and for some even that is a stretch.

So, it's entirely possible and even logical to dislike this holiday," he concludes, looking both satisfied with himself and pretty angry.

Really pretty, Gavin thinks.

"Do you work retail or some shit?"

"No," Connor responds. "I work in marketing. Do you have any idea how many overly cheery Christmas ads I had to design this past month? If I see one more Santa Claus I'm going insane."

"Shit, I'm sorry dude. I'd probably be sick of it too."

He feels for Connor, he really does but — he can't help but continue loving it.

The lights, the snow — when he doesn't have to drive — Chloe's Christmas cookies and the joy on his brother's face when he gets another stupidly thin t-shirt with some pseudo funny quote on it in a present. For him it's something magical almost, and he feels bad that it's been ruined for Connor like this.

"It does," Connor smiles thinly. "But I'll survive. At least I don't have to work this year."

"Yeah, I just got out of working on Christmas," Gavin chuckles.

"So you're visiting family too?"

"Nah, I was here for work, got ordered home right during the holiday stress. But I'll get the actual holidays off 'for my troubles'," he airquotes, and Connor laughs.

"I didn't quite peg you for a businessman." There's a smirk on Connor's face, and Gavin knows he's teasing.

"Thank fucking god," he replies. "Definitely not a businessman. I'm a cop."

"Oh, Officer," Connor laughs, wiggling his eyebrows and Gavin can't help but join in. 

"Detective, actually." 

Connor nods, and the conversation flows easily enough from there on. He learns that Connor had wanted to be part of law enforcement as a kid, but quickly scrapped the idea when he learned that he enjoyed design much more. He in turn tells Connor about his work with grand gestures and voices and some coffee being spilled, and the other seems to enjoy some of the more crazy stories Gavin has. If they're a little bit embellished, who cares? The other man's laughter is worth it.

They chat for the better part of the next hour, and then another when Gavin gets notice his flight will be delayed once more. The plane can't land, he reads.

But he finds that he doesn't really mind, losing himself in contagious laughter and warm, brown eyes.

They order another coffee each at some point, and Gavin impulsively pays for Connor again, who seems sheepish about it but appreciative nonetheless.

For someone like Gavin, who usually doesn't get along well with most people, the conversation feels like a welcome change from the usual script.

At around half past eleven, Connor sighs and looks at him apologetically.

"My flight boards in less than half an hour," he explains.

Gavin nods, and gets up. "Let's get you to your gate, then." He grins and grabs their empty paper cups.

Connor returns his smile.

"Where do you gotta get to?"

"This terminal, gate E12, if nothing changed."

"Sounds good. You got everything?"

Connor nods and they leave the little coffee shop, not before bidding the barista farewell though.

They continue idly chatting as they walk through the terminal, Connor actually chuckling at Gavin's stupid jokes and Gavin being over the moon because of it. No matter what Tina says, he's funny, and this guy is proof.

He tells Connor about Tina, and can't stop laughing when he asks if that's his girlfriend. 

They eventually reach the gate where Connor excuses himself for a minute to talk an older lady sitting on one of the benches with what Gavin presumes are her two grandchildren.

He talks to her, all friendly smiles and kind eyes for a few minutes before he jogs back to Gavin.

"I met her when I first got notice that my flight would be delayed," Connor explains. "I'm surprised she's still here, but I thought I'd say hello and thank her for recommending the place where we got coffee earlier."

"That's nice of you."

Connor snorts. "Thanks. She also said she spoke to a stewardess earlier so thankfully there won't be any more delays. I'm not keen on waiting for another hour."

Oh. Sure. Gavin forces himself to keep smiling and he's incredibly thankful that he didn't ask Connor for his number earlier. He doesn't think he could've handled the embarrassment because it seems like he enjoyed the company much more than Connor did.

"Understable, man," he says instead. "Hope you get home safely and shit."

_Final boarding call for United Express flight 2407, with service to Eugene, Oregon._

"Thank you."

Connor pauses, adjusting his scarf and stepping just a bit too close for comfort.

"I — I'm glad you ran into me earlier," he laughs sheepishly. "My scarf is probably less grateful, but it was nice to have someone to kill the time waiting with."

"Yeah, sure thing. Better than sulking at the gate all by myself at least."

Connor chuckles, and then his eyes seem to land on something on Gavin's face that makes him break into laughter.

"You've got —" he's still laughing, raising on of his hands close, so close to Gavin's face. The screaming of children in the background seems to disappear, the general noise of the airport goes quiet for a second.

"Some of your coffee spilled on your face," Connor says with a big grin, before he reaches out to wipe it off Gavin's cheek.

The other's skin is warm against his, even warmer than the coffee had been. No wonder he's not wearing gloves.

Gavin is about to quip something back when he notices that Connor's expression has changed. The free, easy smile as fallen, bewilderment and shock is on his face, his hand still against Gavin's cheek.

"Hey, are you alright?" Gavin asks, confused.

Painfully slowly the other pulls his hand away and Gavin can't help but miss the warm touch no matter how worried he is.

Connor's hand gradually shifts into his field of vision, and he almost drops his bag when he sees it.

The skin of his hand isn't pale white anymore. Where it had touched Gavin's skin, it's aflame with a storm of colors.

"You're — "

"I'm —"

"Dear, you're going to miss your flight!" The lady from earlier, with her two grandchildren in tow interrupts them and grabs Connor by the arm.

"Come on, love!" 

She keeps chattering at him and there's little resistance from Connor, his face still frozen in a dumbstruck expression and before Gavin can realize what's happening, Connor has disappeared into the hallway leading outside to board his flight.

Gavin continues to stand there until the gravity of what just happened hits him like a punch to the gut.

That is his soulmate out there. His fingers touch his cheek, where he assumes it's painted in bright colours now.

That's his soulmate, he met his soulmate, finally, and —

And he has no way of contacting him. Doesn't know his last name, no address, no phone number or email. There's probably thousands of Connors wherever Connor is from.

With a feeling of defeat, he slumps back against the wall and watches the flight take off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it is I, back with another chapter! Thank you all so much for the kind comments on part 1, they all really made my day <3 thank you, and i hope you'll enjoy this one! And huge thank you to sheepishwolfy for helping me edit, you're making these a lot better with your suggestions! <3

Gavin feels like he's on autopilot when he slowly gets up, unsure how much time has passed.

The worried glances of people walking past him almost go unnoticed.

With heavy feet he makes his way to the nearest bathroom.

There's a strange emptiness in his head and it feels like the calm before the storm, the nausea in his stomach just making him feel worse.

Nothing ever comes easy, he thinks as he begins examining himself in the mirror.

He looks tired, but he always does. No matter how much or little he sleeps, the bags under his eyes are a constant.

What's new is the colorful splash on his cheek, a memorial to where Connor's skin touched his.

He prods it, examines it. His face doesn't feel any different there, as rough as always.

But it looks so different.

And Connor's hand had looked the same, the colors even more vibrant against the other's pale skin.

Connor. Whom he will probably never see again. With both hands he grips the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white.

He wants to throw something, wants to yell and scream and maybe even cry in frustration.

Of course. Of course it's just his luck to meet his soulmate and immediately lose them again.

Gavin isn't even sure how he gets to his own gate, his feet guiding him without his brain's assistance. What else is there to do than get on his plane, go home and go on with his life? The chances of ever meeting Connor again are impossibly slim.

He doesn't even know if the other lives in Chicago, or if he was just here for a stop between planes.

The boarding comes and goes in a flurry of voices and welcomes and instructions from the flight attendants. The plane is full with with people, and he doesn’t think he’s seen even one empty seat by the time the plane takes off.

Gavin watches the world below him get smaller and smaller until it slowly disappears, wondering where Connor is right now. What he’s thinking. Whether he’s just as shaken as he is.

He’ll have to explain this whole mess to Tina. To Eli and Chloe. He’s got a feeling Hank will want to know as well, even if just out of curiosity. People will ask him about it at work, he realizes. Or maybe he’s built up enough of a leave-me-alone aura that they won’t.

But maybe it would be fair to at least give Tina some warning before he sees her in person. He’s not sure how she’ll react, especially once she knows the whole story.

Thank god there’s WiFi on the plane. He scrambles for his phone and opens Line. Tina is right there, on the very top, but when he opens their chat all he can do is stare blankly at it.

How do you even say “Hey I met my soulmate but didn’t get to ask him for his number because he was dragged off by an old lady”? He makes at least three attempts and scraps them all before opening the front camera and snapping a picture of his face and sending it to Tina.

He doesn’t even have time to put his phone back into his pocket before she begins blowing it up.

The first two texts are incoherent and only consist of letters and occasionally numbers jumbled together, and he can just imagine her typing furiously and bombarding him with questions.

_12/19/2020 12:26 pm  
What the fuck Gav???_

_12/19/2020 12:26 pm  
I hope it literally just happened and you didn’t keep this shit from me_

_12/19/2020 12:26 pm  
Wait_

_12/19/2020 12:26 pm  
Are you on a plane??????_

_12/19/2020 12:27 pm  
I thought you weren’t suppoed to get back here yet???_

_12/19/2020 12:27 pm  
Gavin istg if you don’t imediately tell me everything i’m gonna murder you_

_12/19/2020 12:28 pm  
Who is he???? How did u meet??? Is he taller than u??_

_12/19/2020 12:28 pm  
Wait ofc he is_

_12/19/2020 12:29 pm  
Gav????? _

_12/19/2020 12:30 pm  
Hello?? Is he on the plane with you?? Did you meet in chicago???_

**12/19/2020 12:30 pm  
it’s complicated**

_12/19/2020 12:30 pm  
The fuck you mean, complicated_

_12/19/2020 12:30 pm  
?????_

**12/19/2020 12:31 pm  
Met him at the airport**

_12/19/2020 12:31 pm  
_ _Ohhh does he live like super far away? that sucks man :(_

_**12/19/2020 12:32 pm  
I’m guessing he lives in Chicago** _

_12/19/2020 12:32 pm  
You’re guessing????_

**12/19/2020 12:34 pm  
Honestly I got no idea if he does, I don’t even know his last name or anything**

**12/19/2020 12:34  
pm we kinda just bumped into each other**

_12/19/2020 12:35 pm  
Tell me you at least got a phone number_

**12/19/2020 12:35 pm  
Nope**

And with that, all hell breaks loose. Gavin loses count of how many times Tina calls him an idiot, an imbecile, fucking stupid or any other synonyms she can think of. She’s not wrong, and that’s the worst. He should’ve run after him, should’ve shouted to get Connor to snap out of it and give him his number.

But he didn’t, and he only has himself to blame.

Eventually she seems to calm down and resorts to only occasionally throwing in an insult at him. Tina forces him to describe Connor and their short encounter in as much detail as he can remember, before eventually offering words of condolence for how it ended.

Gavin knows the situation affects her too, and he wants nothing more than to hug his best friend.

They continue chatting until they get notice that the plane is about to land, at which point Tina asks if he’s told Elijah and Chloe. When he goes to tell her that he hasn’t, they’re told to put on their seatbelts. He quickly replies with “no” and braces himself for the landing.

Being back in Detroit feels like heaven to him, even if it’s just the airport. Baggage claim is a pain in the ass, but he manages to power through it before calling himself a cab, having a much-needed smoke while he waits. And then, finally, he’s on his way home.

When he unlocks the door to his apartment it feels a little bit like bliss. He's home, and free to throw himself into bed and drown his sorrows in instant noodles and beer.

A faint meowing can be heard, within seconds Missile Launcher is clawing at his pant leg.

Tina has been feeding her and Gilbert (and petting them. And sending him pictures of them.) for the past two months, but he's grateful to see his whirlwind of a cat again.

Gilbert is probably sulking somewhere in the living room, he assumes, before reaching down to scratch Missy's head.

The cat purrs contently, and Gavin instantly feels a bit better.

"You don't think I'm stupid, hm?" He asks her. When the cat doesn't answer, he drops his luggage in favor of picking her up. Missy, without hesitation, rubs her little head against his cheek.

He chooses to remain like this for a few minutes, before letting the cat jump out of his arms again. Unpacking is too much of a chore right now, but he should at least bring his suitcases to the bedroom.

A little bit gets unpacked anyways, if only so he can distract himself.

It's two p.m. and he feels absolutely ready for bed. But instead he sets out to find Gilbert, gets his hand scratched up for surprising the cat, and then goes to have another smoke outside.

Mere minutes after he's back inside the doorbell rings. For a split second he imagines it's Connor, who doesn't even know his address and if he had found out it would be creepy, before lazily strolling to open the door.

He's greeted by someone throwing themselves at him, and it takes him a second to notice that that someone is Tina. She's hugging him closely, as if her life (or his life) depended on it.

"You're such an idiot," she mumbles into his shoulder, empathizing the last word. "Idiot, idiot, idiot."

"I know, Tiny," Gavin responds, rubbing circles into her back.

"I can't believe you met him and didn't ask for his number! Or even just a last name! Or anything!"

He knew why Tina is so upset. Being without a soulmate, having found them and lost them is her every day.

"In my defense —"

"Nope. No defenses. _Actions_. We're gonna fucking find your Romeo."

_There's still a chance for you_ , goes unsaid.

"How 'bout we go inside first?"

Tina nods and lets go of him before following him inside.

It's hard to see Tina as close to tears as she is right now, but he knows it's better not to comment on it. Him meeting his soulmate must be ripping open old wounds for her.

Tina sits down on the couch like she owns it, which is partially true since they bought it together when they were still roommates.

Gilbert comes running to her and jumps into her lap, making Tina smile weakly. _Traitor_ , Gavin thinks without any malice.

Wordlessly, Gavin goes into the kitchen and gets both of them a mug of coffee, giving Tina a minute to collect herself.

Her eyes are suspiciously swollen when he returns, but there's a look of determination on her face.

"So, what's the plan?" she asks firmly.

"Plan?"

"The plan to find your soulmate, dipshit."

"There's — there is no plan," Gavin sighs.

"Okay, so we need a plan. Do you still have that stupid whiteboard?"

"Yeah, gimme a minute." He gets up to get the old thing from where he had stuffed it behind his closet.

When he comes back, she’s talking on the phone to someone, quietly nodding along to whatever the other person is saying.

“Who are you talking to? Gavin asks, setting down the whiteboard.

“Chloe,” Tina mouths back. A few seconds of silence later, she nods. “See you in twenty, then,” she says into the phone before hanging up.

“You’re leaving already? What the fuck did I get that shitty thing for if you’re gonna bolt anyways?”

“No, dipshit. Chloe’s coming here. Eli too, but they’re stuck in traffic. Four brains are better than two.”

“So I assume you told them?” He sighs and throws himself onto the couch.

“Obviously.”

“I hate you, Tiny.”

“No you don’t,” she says with a smile.

They kill the time until the other two arrive with playing hangman on the whiteboard, Tina choosing increasingly ridiculous words for Gavin to guess.

He's almost relieved when the doorbell rings. Practically leaping off the couch he goes to open it. Once again he's greeted by a bone-crushing hug, from Chloe this time. Elijah stands behind her, grinning.

"About time," he says with a nod to Gavin's face.

He's not wrong. Most people tend to meet their soulmate in their twenties, not on the wrong side of thirty-five.

But the bastard doesn't have to rub it in.

Chloe lets go of him and Gavin invites them both into his apartment, choosing not to hear the comments his brother makes about some of the more shabby furniture.

Don't fix what ain't broken, and the dresser works fine despite the cat scratches, thank you very much.

"Coffee?" He offers. And as expected, neither of them declines the offer.

Once Gavin delivers it, and makes himself and Tina a second mug, they all sit down on his rather narrow couch with Chloe on the floor, leaning her back against Elijah's knees.

"So," Tina says after a few seconds and gets up. She grabs one of the whiteboard markers and a sponge and removes their game of hangman. Then, she writes "Operation FTLS" on it in big letters.

“What’s FTLS?” Gavin asks.

“‘Find this loser’s soulmate’ was too long to fit.”

"Hey!" he protests, but is promptly ignored.

"What do we know?" Chloe asks.

Gavin retells the story, while Tina writes "Connor, last name: ?", "Chicago?" and "works in marketing" on the board.

"Do we know where he was going? His flight number?" Elijah asks, regarding the board with scepticism.

"Went to, uh, Eugene. No idea about the flight number."

"Well, I'm sure there's a way to find that out." He taps his chin.

"And then? 'S not as if the airline just gives out the full names of passengers."

"Not to you, maybe."

"Money can't buy everything, Eli."

"It's worth a try, isn't it? Chloe, can you look up all the flights from Chicago to Eugene for me?"

"Of course," she smiles, pulling out her phone.

"So let's assume we'll get his full name," Tina ponders. "I doubt that will make things that much easier."

"How many people of the exact same first and last name will work in the same line of work in the same city?"

"There was another Gavin Reed at the academy," Gavin throws in.

"And he was a dick," Tina agrees.

"But it will make our search much easier. There has to be some sort of photograph or even better, contact info on social media, or maybe a company website."

There's a collective nodding.

"But we don't even know if he really lives in Chicago."

They go quiet. On the chance that Connor doesn't work in Chicago, even having his last name would be useless.

"Which airport did you guys meet at?" Chloe breaks the silence.

"O'Hare."

"Found it!"

Everyone looks at her expectantly. "Flight 2347, O'Hare to Eugene. That's gotta be it, right? Took off in terminal 2, Gate E12.

"That's it!"

"Which airline?"

"United Express."

Elijah nods and gets up.

"I'll see if I can do something about it," he promises. Then, he disappears into Gavin's bedroom.

Tina is still writing on the board, adding things like "social media?" and "airline?"

There's an expectant tension in the room as they wait, Chloe trying to make idle small talk. Tina indulges her, but Gavin feels too stressed, running his hand through his hair over and over again.

What if they can't find Connor? He'll end up having to live his life with the knowledge that his soulmate is somewhere out there, but completely unreachable to him.

The cogs in his brain are rattling, and he barely even notices when Tina waves her palm in front of his face.

"You're overthinking again, aren’t you?" She asks.

"Mhm."

"We'll find him."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Tiny."

"I'm with Tina," Chloe chimes in. "I'm sure we can do this. I'm sure by now, Elijah already knows his full name and —"

Like he's been summoned by the mention of his name, Eli choses just that moment to reemerge from the bedroom, a gloomy expression on his face.

"I have some good and some bad news," he says.

"Let me guess," Gavin responds. "You didn't get his name?"

"Precisely."

"Then what's the good news?"

"That your information should be pretty secure with the airline, should you fly with them again."

"Wow. Great. That makes me so fucking happy."

"Gavin," Chloe chastises him. "He's doing his best, okay? It was worth a try."

He sighs. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Fuck."

Once more he runs his hand through his hair.

"And what now?"

"Now," Tina decides. "We're ordering pizza. I don't know about you guys, but I'm fucking starving and I can't think on an empty stomach."

Everyone agrees more or less instantly and lets Tina order two pizzas.

The delivery doesn't take long, thankfully, and once the food is there they feel like they're able to relax a bit.

They switch from the topic of Gavin's soulmate to more mundane ones, like work and his time in Chicago.

He's glad about it. Part of him feels like his head is going to explode if he keeps thinking about it. Because no matter what idea they come up with, it seems utterly hopeless. Especially since they don't have a full name.

Tina elbowing him drags him out of his thought spiral.

"You're barely eating your pizza. You okay there?"

"Yeah I'm just— I think I'm gonna get a drink. Anyone else?"

Three people shake their heads, so he goes to the kitchen to collect a beer just for himself.

They're all giving him a concerned look when he returns.

"What?"

"You know we'll do everything we can to find him, right?" Chloe asks quietly, carefully.

"'Course." He plops down onto the sofa again.

"But in the case we— if this doesn't work… life isn't over without him."

"I know," Gavin responds, more annoyance in his voice than intended. He knows there's a real possibility they'll never find Connor, but he doesn't want to think about it yet. Even if the airline didn't give them the information they need, they can still try and take to social media.

"Aren't there sites for stuff like that?" He says.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you never read those _heartwarming_ articles about people finding their match again through one of various sites?" Elijah chuckles at his wife, earning himself a light slap on the hand.

"Unlike someone, I have better ways to spend my time than reading gossip articles and the boulevard press," she teases.

"You wound me, dear. It's good to keep up with what's happening in the world."

"Can we please get back on topic?"

"Sorry, Gavin," Chloe says sheepishly.

"Anyways," Tina chimes in. "The idea isn't so bad. I doubt we can find him on a regular social media search, but this might be worth a try. Gav, get your laptop.”

He groans a bit and goes to fetch his laptop, which is buried deep in his luggage.

They spend over half an hour crowded around the computer, trying to find the most reputable site that's actually for finding your soulmate again, and not a dating site for those without a soulmate.

Tina scoffs at the idea, and no one bothers to correct her. They're still cutting her some leeway on the topic.

Setting up a profile feels ridiculous, like he's in the academy again, trying to find his soulmate on Tinder.

They successfully manage to set up a post, though.

Regular social media might not be a lost cause though, so they start looking. Their search for a Connor that works in marketing turns up at least four or five hundred all over the country, and fourteen only in and around Chicago.

Half of them don't have a picture anywhere, and no social media or contact info to be found. The other half don’t match.

And there's not even a guarantee any of those Chicago Connors are his Connor.

His Connor.

It's a weird thought, considering they met not even twelve hours ago and only spent the time waiting for their flights with each other.

He's not too hopeful about the whole ordeal if he's being honest, but a tiny part of him wants to one day be able to call Connor his.

His friends stay until the evening, even when they're done eating pizza and refreshing Gavin's page for replies.

The only message he got was from a stranger who wanted to hook up.

Around 9 p.m., after an hour and a half of trashy TV, Chloe and Elijah excuse themselves, saying they have to get home. Chloe has an early shift at the hospital tomorrow and needs her sleep.

It’s something Gavin has always admired about her, that she’s staying in such a demanding line of work when her husband has more money than he can ever hope to spend.

They say their goodbyes, and Tina leaves half an hour later. Work, she says, and he knows it’s only the partial truth. No matter how much she supports him and wants him to be happy, this soulmate talk, and seeing Chloe and Elijah being happy and affectionate with each other, hurts her deeper than she’d ever be willing to admit.

Gavin hugs her a bit tighter than necessary when they’re standing at the door.

And then he’s alone again, with Missy and Gilbert and his apartment that suddenly feels so much emptier than it did before.

The urge to go downstairs and have another smoke is there, but he decides it’s not worth standing in the cold winter air.

Instead, he gets another beer from the kitchen. Then puts it back before exchanging it for a glass of Jack Daniels and throws himself onto the couch, putting on whatever shitty TV show he can find. It’s hard to keep himself from constantly refreshing the page they set up, but he knows it’d just drive him insane.

The whiskey burns in his throat, but it’s an enjoyable sort of burn. Gavin hates how the whole ordeal managed to dampen his excitement for the holidays, because he knows it’ll be constant nervousness, hoping and resigning now. It just had to happen right before Christmas, didn’t it?

He takes a swig straight from the bottle when his glass is empty and runs his hand through Gilbert’s fur. The cat purrs under his fingers, and Gavin smiles weakly. So what if they can’t find Connor right away? He’s got his cats, he’s got Tina, he’s got his brother and Chloe and Chris, whom he should probably tell about the situation but they’re not as close as he is with the rest. He’s even got Hank, even though he wouldn’t consider them friends.

It’s almost 1:30 a.m. when he decides he has enough of watching trash TV, thanking heaven and whatever deity is out there that he doesn’t have work tomorrow. He drags himself up from the couch, leaving the trash where it is and going to bed.

It’s comfortable, it’s familiar. Yet he still sleeps fitfully.

There’s no alarm to wake him up the next morning, only the meowing of his cats demanding to be fed. They’ve probably gotten used to getting their breakfast before Tina had to show up for her shift.

So Gavin forces himself to get out of bed and pours some food into their bowls, smiling slightly as the two of them make a run for it as soon as they hear the rustling of the wet food can.

He checks his page for updates, messages, and finds nothing.

Saying that he’s not disappointed would be a lie, but he has to remind himself to be patient. It’s unlikely that Connor has seen his post. He can only hope that the other is searching for him too.

For his troubles, however, Gavin feels he deserves a proper coffee. Better than what his coffee machine usually spits out.

Giving both Gil and Missy a last pet he gets dressed using whatever he can find that’s not buried in his still-packed suitcases. While he dresses, Gavin answers a text from Chris and apologizes that he hasn’t said anything about being back, as well as shooting Hank a message.

They may not be on the best terms, but they usually work cases together. Even though they’re not officially partners, Gavin feels like Hank should know about his return.

The air outside is cold, even for December. He wraps his scarf more tightly around his neck and face, pulling his coat together and cursing himself for not wearing something thicker.

Maybe he really should’ve unpacked.

Thankfully the coffee shop he usually frequents is not far away, only a few blocks. He walks the last few feet as fast as possible without slipping on the ice, practically throwing open the door and ready to embrace the warmth, when he notices someone standing in front of him, waiting for him to get out of the way.

The man’s face is mostly obscured by a scarf, but — he’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

Right in front of him stands Connor, staring at him with a hint of annoyance.

Gavin feels like he’s going through every possible emotion at once, from shock and surprise to jittery elation to bewilderment.

How can he be here? His flight was going somewhere else entirely. Not that he’s complaining, but—

“Can you move?” Connor asks, his voice less warm than Gavin remembers it, even more snippy than he sounded in the beginning of their encounter.

“Fuck,” Gavin lets out and takes a step towards him. “Fuck, man, I didn’t— I didn’t know you were coming to Detroit.”

“What?”

There’s no recognition in Connor’s face, and Gavin’s heart sinks. He pulls down his scarf and points to his cheek.

“Stop acting like you don’t remember me,” he tells him, pleads with him. There’s something strange going on, but he can’t tell what it is. The elation he’s felt earlier slowly evaporates, and something cold has his heart in a vice grip.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Gavin!” He bursts out louder than necessary, feeling heads turn towards them. “Your soulmate?” he asks more quietly.

“My— I don’t fucking know you.”

“Of course you do! We met at the airport, you can’t just have forgotten me—”

“Hey, I’m sorry for whatever the fuck happened, but i’m not your soulmate,” Connor says firmly.

Does he really want nothing to do with him? Why is he acting like this?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks quietly. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe he had misinterpreted their time together, maybe the expression on Connor’s face when he saw the soulmark wasn’t confusion — maybe it had been disgust.

Before Connor can reply, he grabs one of his hands, the hand he assumes has the soulmark.

“Here, I can prove it! There’s gotta be a—”

Abruptly, the hand is pulled from his grip without Gavin even having the chance to take off the other’s glove.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Connor spits out, accentuating each word. “I want nothing to do with you.”

Gavin just stands there stunned, staring at Connor. The other takes the chance to squeeze past him. His knees feel weak, there’s a numbness inside of him that seems to encompass everything.

His soulmate wants nothing to do with him.

An employee approaches him and he barely understands what she’s saying, before an idea hits him. He asks for a piece of paper, a napkin, anything, and quickly scribbles something on it when the barista hands one to him with a bewildered look. Turning on his heels, he runs out of the coffee shop after Connor. “Wait!” he yells.

Connor doesn’t slow down, but Gavin manages to catch up with him, holding out the napkin with his number on it.

“Please,” he heaves. “If you ever change your mind, please. Text me, call me, anything. Please.”

Their eyes meet for a few seconds. “I won’t,” Connor assures him with such a coldness in his voice that it makes Gavin shiver. Then he turns around and walks away.

His feet feel as if they’re frozen to the ground, heavy and unmoveable as he watches Connor’s silhouette get smaller in the distance until he completely disappears. At one point he seems to throw something away, and the thought that it might be his number makes him feel sick.

The realization that his soulmate wants nothing to do with him feels like someone had punched him in the stomach, like all the air had just been pressed out of his lungs and had been replaced with icy water.

He doesn’t know what to do now. They had spent the entire evening yesterday trying to come up with a plan to find Connor. Even if he had tried to keep his expectations down, he had been hopeful, excited.

Now all that had shattered like glass.

With the last bit of resolve he can manage, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Elijah.

**12/20/2020 9:02 pm  
take down the page, please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it is me again! With chapter 3! And here comes my favorite character of this fic - Niles. Listen. I adore him. I hope y'all enjoy this (despite the fact that it's a bit shorter than the previous two) and once again, thanks to sheepishwolfy for helping me with the editing! <3 ALSO huge huge huge thanks to everyone who's been reading, kudo'ing and commenting <3 every hit, every kudo and comment has made my day so far, thank you all so much <3

Less than twenty-four hours previously, 280 miles away, on a plane that will take off in just a few minutes from Chicago-O’hare International Airport, Connor finds his seat and sits down.

The lady who had ushered him onto the flight is nowhere to be seen. Next to him is a small child, accompanied by his mother.

He’s glad he got the aisle seat, because he knows he’d feel trapped in the window or middle one right now.

How could he have let himself be rushed onto the plane like that? Why didn’t he do something when the lady grabbed his arm and dragged him with her? He’s stupid, stupid, stupid.

She meant well, he knows that, and he’s not mad at her. All she had wanted was for him to actually catch his flight, she couldn’t have known what had just happened.

He had met his soulmate.

And Connor didn’t know how to get in touch with him.

The person he’s mad at is himself, and if he wasn’t among people right now, he would probably lose his cool.

Why didn’t he run back, why isn’t he getting off the plane to run back to Gavin? 

The signal to put on seat belts appears and Connor does as he’s supposed to, barely registering the voice of the announcement that their flight would take off now.

Why can’t things ever be easy?

Because that’s not how his life is supposed to be, he thinks.

The usual uneasiness from the plane taking off doesn’t go away once they’re steady in the air. Connor curses himself, and the flight and the airport and Gavin, too. 

The season is frustrating enough as it is, he didn’t need the added note of finding his soulmate and losing him again immediately after with no way to get in touch.

Why hadn’t he asked Gavin for his number before? He had seemed brash, sure, and a bit of a dick when he criticized Connor’s coffee choice, but he had been charming enough.

He had expected Gavin to make the first move, and that had been Connor’s mistake.

Why did Gavin have to wear gloves? He’s sure their fingers touched at least once, and none of this would’ve happened if Gavin had just not worn them.

Where were the Christmas miracles Niles always talked about? He could really use one right now.

Speaking of his brother. He should probably send him and his mother a text that he’s on the plane now.

Connor doesn’t think he’s ready to tell them about the situation with his soulmate yet. Maybe they won’t even notice, he thinks, pulling out his phone and eyeing the colorful splash on his fingers.

It’s subtle, but it’s alight in the most beautiful colors. 

He vividly remembers watching it bloom on Gavin’s cheek, the warm, rough skin against his fingers. There’s never been a feeling of longing so strong, so all-encompassing in him. 

Connor shakes his head. He barely knows Gavin, he barely knows anything about him. Who knows if he’s a horrible person, or even just if they’re compatible.

His friend North can sing a song about both the last points.

Quickly he connects to the WiFi and opens Line, sending a message to the family group chat. _I’m on my way home, plane just took off,_ he writes, getting no response from Silas, expected, and a smiley from Niles, also expected. His mother asks when he’ll be at the airport, and if he’ll need someone to fetch him.

He assures her that he’ll be fine and can take a cab.

The discussion is over fairly quickly, and he chooses to ignore the picture of Christmas cookies in progress Niles sends.

The flight would take almost five hours, and as long as the kid next to him doesn’t start acting up, the best thing he can probably do is get some sleep.

It’s not like he got much last night, staying up late to finish the latest project and getting up way too early to catch his flight, only for it to be delayed. So he closes his eyes and tries to rest, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket before eventually turning it to silent.

He’ll have to figure out what to do about Gavin , he thinks. There’s nothing he can think of right now. No one he knows has ever been in this situation. 

Niles hasn’t met his soulmate yet. Silas decided that he doesn’t care for the woman that’s supposed to be his, especially since she’s in a happy relationship with another man. Markus and Simon found each other pretty easily, North… that one is complicated. 

None had met their soulmate only to be separated from them again.

His rest is fitful, but the time passes, thankfully.

When he gets off the plane to collect his luggage he doesn’t feel much better, only a bit less panicked. 

There has to be some way to find Gavin, even if he doesn’t know it yet. But finding a single Detective named Gavin who could be living anywhere in the country is no easy task. There could hundreds, thousands, and why didn’t he ask where the other was going?

It had seemed unimportant at the time, not worth asking. All that had mattered was that they were getting along and could kill the time until their respective flights, so they could go separate ways again.

And now he’s standing at the baggage claim in an airport probably hundreds or thousands of miles away from wherever Gavin is.

For a brief moment, he wonders what Gavin might be doing right now. Is he searching for him? Does he know how to go about it? It’s not like Gavin has any more information on Connor than vice versa.

He quickly answers a text from North, asking him if he had a good flight when he sees his luggage and grabs it.

Finally, he can go home.

The cab ride is long and uncomfortable with the driver trying to make smalltalk that Connor simply doesn’t want. The man keeps talking despite his one-word answers, and Connor is glad when they arrive at his mother’s house.

He pays and tips the driver and grabs his luggage, bracing himself for what he’ll find inside.

The bell rings with an overly-cheery tune when he presses it, and he can’t hold back a groan. Of course Niles changed it to match the season.

The door swings open seconds later and he’s greeted by his mother, smiling lighty.

“Connor, it’s good to see you,” she says, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Hello, Mom.”

Biologically speaking, Amanda is far from his mother. But she raised the triplets from the age of three after they had lost their parents in an accident, and she’s the only mother he really remembers.

The house is filled with cheery Christmas decorations, with smiling Santas and little reindeer statues and holly and evergreens and a big, so far undecorated Christmas tree in the living room.

How Amanda puts up with all of Niles’ Christmas spirit each year is a real miracle to him.

It doesn't take long until he smells the, admittedly delicious, scent from the kitchen. Niles tends to bake all year round, and Connor would be lying if he said he didn't like the treats his brother sometimes sends via mail, but he's absolutely mad that they always seem to taste better around Christmas.

His brother is lovely, he really is, but there's a bone-deep exhaustion in Connor. The whole ordeal at the airport has drained him quite a lot, and even the dozing on the plane didn't help.

He exchanges a few words with his mother, assuring her that his flight was fine and that he's fine and yes he's eating more than just garbage in Chicago before bolting to what used to be his room, now turned into a guest room.

Being home is always a special feeling, nostalgic and warm and it makes him smile. There's still photos of their little family on the wall.

It's never bothered him that there was no real father in the picture. One of their neighbours had taken up some of those duties when the boys had been young. He had taken them hiking, had helped Amanda teach them to drive and had given them a great deal of fatherly advice despite not actually being their father in any way.

Connor hopes he's well. They had lost touch years ago when their neighbour moved away.

Best not to dwell on it, he decides, and sets down his suitcase. Unpacking seems to take his mind off of things a bit, and he's grateful to be doing something where he doesn't have to think about much other than what goes where.

Unfortunately it doesn't take him long to get all of his clothing into the closet, and he's at a loss for what to do now. He doesn't want to seem impolite, but he's not sure if he can take his brother's Christmas cheer today. If Silas was here they could at least be grouchy about it together, but he's probably still in Detroit.

The smell is even stronger now, and he assumes that whatever Niles is baking had been taken out of the oven. Maybe he could go and snag a cookie, he definitely needs the comfort of something sweet.

Their spacious kitchen hasn't been spared from Niles' Christmas spirit, and it's messy right now.

Loose paper recipes litter the countertops, dusted with flour and sugar and cocoa powder. Two trays sit cooling on the stove, surrounded by tubes of decorative icing and open containers of sprinkles.

His brother is hacking dough, a technique that Connor never understood, but whatever. If Niles wants to torture the poor thing like this, that's his business.

Waiting to be noticed he takes one of the undecorated cookies and immediately hates how good it tastes.Something related to Christmas has no right to be this good.

He stands there for a good few minutes before Niles, humming Christmas carols under his breath, goes to take another batch out of the oven and then finally turns around.

"Connor!" He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi," Connor replies with a mouth full of his third cookie.

Niles just laughs. "I'm glad you made it. Flight delays suck."

"Yeah." Connor swallows thickly.

"How's Chicago this time of the year?"

"Cold."

Niles chuckles. "Same as everywhere then."

"Not Australia."

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"I almost think I preferred it when you weren't home."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Of course," Niles laughs. "Just let me finish up here, then we can sit down in the living room and you can —"

A shatter, and the whole baking tray falls to the ground. "Holy shit!" Niles exclaims.

It's rare to hear Niles swear due to his work with children, and Connor watches as his eyes go wide.

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Tell you what?"

He reaches out, grabbing Connor's hand and waving it around.

Oh.

So Niles did notice.

"That you met your soulmate! That's amazing Connor, I'm so happy for you!"

"Niles —"

"I can't wait to meet them, you gotta to tell me everything! How did you meet? What's their name? What do they look like? What are they like? Wait, you're gay so it's probably a dude, so what's he like? Oh god, this is amazing, meeting your soulmate right before Christmas, I can't believe that you got your own Christmas miracle!"

Connor tries to interject, growing increasingly frustrated by the second, but his brother doesn't let him.

"Does he live in Chicago? Did you even meet him recently? You have to, otherwise you would've told us, right? Why didn't you tell us earlier, though? This is so exciting, I'm —"

"Niles!" Connor snaps, ripping his hand away from his brother's grip.

"What?"

"It's — it's complicated."

"He's a dick, isn't he?"

"No! Well, not really."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing! Everything!" Connor huffs before shoving another cookie into his mouth.

"Okay, what the f — Connor, what on earth happened?"

"I met him at the airport."

"That's sweet though, isn't it? Just like a Christmas movie!"

"Not everything is about your stupid holiday!" Crumbs fly everyone, and Niles gives him a stern look.

"It's not stupid!"

"Yes it is!"

"You're deflecting."

"I'm not."

Niles sighs and starts picking up the cookies that fell on the floor. Half of them thankfully stayed on the tray, so not all is lost.

"You are. So, what's the issue? Is he married with kids? Straight? Emotionally unavailable?"

"No! Or I don't know, he could be! I don't know! I barely know him and I have no fucking chance of getting to know him!" Connor runs a hand through his hair, messing it up. "We got separated before I managed to get his number."

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_."

"That's not the end of the world though, is it? You have his name, right? We can start a search, I'm sure we'll —"

"Yes, because finding someone by only their first name is so easy."

Niles crosses his arms. "There's no need to get snippy with me, I'm just trying to help. How was I supposed to know that you don't even know his full name?"

"I get it, I'm a dumbass. Now can we please move on?"

"No."

"Why are you like this?"

"Because you're not."

Connor rolls his eyes. "God I hate you."

"You don't, ” Niles says, smirking. “And we're gonna find your soulmate, promise."

"Well, good luck with finding the right cop named Gavin in all of America."

"A cop?" There's a slight disdain in Niles' voice even if he tries to hide it. "Well, whatever floats your boat I guess."

"It's not like I choose my soulmate," Connor reminds him. "And he seemed like a decent guy, even if he did make fun of me for ordering iced coffee."

"You went on a coffee date but you don't have his number?"

"It wasn't a coffee date!" He explains how Gavin ran into him and spilled his coffee.

"Wow. That's so cliché, I love it." The grin on Niles' face is back, and Connor shakes his head.

"So, what are you gonna do about it?"

"I don't know! Right now, nothing. I had no idea stuff like this could even happen."

Niles nods. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

"You'll help?"

"Of course! Can't let your Christmas miracle go to waste!"

"A Christmas miracle?" Amanda's amused voice chimes in from the the doorway.

"Yup!" Niles chirps. "Connor here met his soulmate."

Connor elbows his brother in the ribs. "You don't have to yell it from the rooftops."

"I'm not! I'm just telling our mother!"

"Enough of the squabble, boys. Connor, I'm happy for you. I figured something happened when you came in, but I didn't want to pry. Niles, stop teasing your brother.

Now, can you please set the table?" She walks over to the stove, stirring the stew in one of the pots. "Dinner should be ready in about two minutes."

Connor dutifully does as told while Niles cleans up the mess in the kitchen a bit.

Eating dinner at home is something he's dearly missed. He isn't a bad cook, no matter what North says, but they do get take-out or instant meals most days.

The stew tastes great, and dinner goes over smoothly. Connor tells them about how things are in Chicago, and promises Niles to greet North and the rest. He laughs about the stories his brother tells him about the kids from the preschool he works at, and for a while, he forgets about the soulmate debacle.

They sit at the dinner table for at least an hour before they start cleaning up.

Doing the dishes with his brother feels almost like he's a teenager again, living at home and splashing Niles with water while the other dries the plates. The only one missing is Silas, but he should be here tomorrow. Connor really looks forward to having an ally in his dislike of Christmas.

Niles manages to convince him to watch a movie in the evening and they make themselves at home on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn after burning the first batch.

It never fails to amaze him that Niles’ favourite movie genre is horror. In his head, Connor hears Silas' snarky commentary about the unrealistic gore and the stupid decisions everyone involved makes, but he definitely enjoys spending time with Niles, even if he wishes their other brother was here too. Especially since they're not talking and Niles can't grill him about Gavin anymore.

Does Gavin enjoy horror movies? He probably sees enough violence in the line of duty, so maybe not.

When the end credits roll, Niles turns to Connor. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"About what?" Maybe if he feigns cluelessness, Connor can get out of this conversation.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No."

"Connor."

He sighs. It was worth a try.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. How do you find someone based on so little information? What if he doesn't want me to find him?"

"Do you really think that?"

"He didn't ask for my number, or call after me, or anything," Connor says, and with that, the doubts start creeping up on him. "What if he didn't say anything because he's in a happy relationship and doesn't want me to interfere with that?"

"You didn't do anything about it either," Niles reminds him. "And the only way to find out is to get in touch with him."

"And how?"

"Christmas miracle?" 

Connor throws a pillow. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"What about making a post on social media?,” Niles suggests. “Maybe we can get it to go viral."

"That would never happen."

"Don't dismiss it until you tried it."

"How about we do it tomorrow? I'm really tired."

Niles hesitates."Connor, do you even want to find him?"

"Of course! It's just — what if it doesn't work out?" Connor whispers, pulling his knees up to his chest. "What if it ends the same way it did for North?"

"I can't promise you that it'll work out," Niles says firmly. "But do you really want to let this chance pass by you?" 

"I don't know."

"Sleep on it, and we have all the time in the world to make a decision tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Of course," Niles smiles. 

"I think I'm going to bed then," Connor says, getting up.

"It's good to see you all again."

"It's good to see you too. Good night, Connor."

"Good night."

He leaves Niles behind on the couch where he'll no doubt put on another horror movie and scare himself to death. Back in their teen years, it wasn't uncommon for Niles to text Connor in the middle of the night because he was too scared to sleep. So Connor would go over to Niles' room, often collecting Silas on the way. They'd stay up talking for hours. 

They were all close. Still are, as much as you can be when life keeps you busy and you live hundreds or thousands of miles apart. Each of them has their own lives now, Niles is the only one of the three to still live in the house they grew up in.

Despite the fact that they're triplets, Niles had always seemed younger than the other two. Connor used to regularly tease him about being the most baby-faced of the three, especially since teasing Silas never seemed to work. For one, him and Silas look identical. And there's also the fact that whatever you throw at Silas, he throws back twice as bad.

The hallway is dark and empty as he makes his way to his room and throws himself into the bed. They'll all be together again tomorrow. All three of them plus their mother, none of them with a soulmate in tow.

Sometimes he wonders what happened to Amanda's soulmate, but she never said anything. Once as a kid, he had found a grainy picture of her. It was a younger version of her, with another woman, holding out their hands with matching soulmarks towards the camera.

When he had tried to ask her about it, she told him to never talk about it again.

That day, he learned that soulmates aren't a guarantee for happiness.

Maybe that's why he's so worried about the whole situation with Gavin. All in all, he knows more people who have some sort of unhappy story with theirs than those whose who don't.

His thoughts linger on those worries as he changes into his pajamas and crawls into bed. Will he end up like them too? He doesn't want to.

And sometimes not trying at all seems to be the easier option.

But if had never taken risks, would he be where he is right now? Living with his good friend in Chicago, with a well-paid albeit stressful job he usually enjoys?

Probably not, he thinks.

Maybe this was one of those risks worth taking.

Maybe it would be worth it.

It's something only time can tell, and Connor, as his eyelids start to drop, decides that he wants to find out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, the last chapter! I'm honestly super nervous about the ending and if it's good, bc endings always make me nervous. So, I hope you all like it! And I hope everyone has a merry christmas if you celebrate, happy holidays in general or just a great few days and tehn soon a great start to 2020! 2019 was -- a lot for me tbh, but a lot of it was good. And I'm still in this fandom, i haven't gotten bored of it yet haha. It's been a great source of joy for me, even when i haven't beenw riting a lot. So, thank you all, everyone who's been reading, who's been kudo'ing, who's been commenting. Thank you everyone who's in this fandom, who's writing or drawing or liking, reblogging or lurking. You're all a valuable part of this community and i can't wait to see what 2020 brings for everyone. 
> 
> enough of the sappines! hope you all enjoy this last chapter, and thank you to Clarrolx for spellchecking for me <3

Connor sleeps in the next morning and takes his sweet time to get out of bed. Now that he's at home, he even lowers himself to wearing jeans instead of dress pants, getting dressed in the bathroom before replying to an email from work.

Not even the holidays would spare him from some idiotic colleague needing help.

Connor loves his job, he does, but that doesn't mean his colleagues don't drive him insane sometimes.

He texts North to wish her a good drive home and then Markus, asking him how things are going at work.

Maybe North is right about him being a workaholic.

When he had been a teenager, his mother would’ve never let him sleep in for so long, but being an adult seems to change things. He smiles.

It’s good to be home, especially when he leaves his room and the first thing he smells are pancakes.

The kitchen is filled with the delicious scent of breakfast, even if it is already 11 a.m.. Niles is standing in front of the stove, flipping pancakes and even throwing the occasional one, catching it with his pan.

It’s a trick Connor has never managed to master, and the last time he tried it one of them stuck to the ceiling in his and North’s apartment. Explaining the stain on there to their landlord had been less than fun.

With a yawn, he leans against one of the counters.

“How come you’re only making breakfast now?”

“Slept in today,” Niles responds, and Connor can see him getting red.

“How long did you stay up?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Not that long!”

“Liar.”

“Whatever. Do you want pancakes or not?”

“Obviously.”

After Niles finishes the batch they each grab a plate and help themselves to a generous portion. Connor hadn’t realized it, but it’s been a while since he’s had a proper breakfast like this.

They eat in silence for the first few minutes, but when Niles speaks up, Connor knows exactly what to expect.

“So about the Gavin situation… Did you decide what to do?”

“I think I’m going to try and find him.”

“The only right decision,” Niles teases. 

“So, how are we gonna do it?”

“What, you expect me to come up with ideas to find your soulmate?”

In response to Connor’s stunned silence, he just laughs.

“I’ve got some, don’t worry.”

The clean up their plates and the kitchen before they settle on the couch, Niles’ laptop in front of them.

“So first, social media. Then we’ll call one of your friends in Chicago. Maybe they can ask the Chicago PD about some cop who was only there for probably a few months.”

Connor nods. 

“Here.” Niles thrusts the laptop at him. 

“Log into Twitter.”

He does as told. 

“Now, let’s see…”

They spend a while drafting up a thread, while Niles bugs him about every little thing he words wrongly according to him.

“Are you the one who works in marketing or is it me?”

“Are you the one who actually knows how to talk to a human being or is it me?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just teasing!” 

“Sure you are.”

The continue to bicker until they finally have a thread they’re both somewhat happy with. 

“So I just post it and hope for a miracle?”

“A Christmas miracle to be exact.”

“Stop!”

“Nope!”

“Ugh.”

“Okay, now, let’s text… North?”

“On her way to visit family.”

“Markus?”

“Swamped in work.”

“Josh?”

“To his knees is correcting essays.”

“Simon?”

“That might work.”

“Okay, let’s text Simon then.”

Despite his confusion about the why and what, especially when Connor refuses to tell the whole story again, Simon agrees to ask around.

“And that’s it?” Connor asks.

“No! There’s a lot more we can do. We could see if we can print some flyers. Or get an ad on TV or in the newspaper, or —”

“I think it’s time to calm down a bit, boys.”

“Mom!” Niles all but squeaks, almost dropping his laptop.

“You two should’ve started decorating the tree while I was gone, I asked you to right before I left, Niles.”

“Sorry, mom,” he says sheepishly.

“And didn’t you want to make another batch of cookies for the nursing home?”

“Yes, mom.”

“So how about you let whatever you’ve set up so far run, and focus on that for now?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Connor chimes in. He doesn’t think flyers or a TV ad would’ve been a good idea anyways.

They spend the rest of the day decorating the tree, leaving Silas’ ornaments in the box.

It’s a family tradition, that each of them has a special set of ornaments only they are allowed to put on the tree.

While Niles is a bit worried that Silas will be mad they started the tree without him, Connor knows their brother won’t mind, will even be glad.

Eventually, the tree looks absolutely wonderful.

In an attempt to take his mind off of their Twitter post and to keep himself from refreshing his activity page he ends up helping Niles with the baking, even if he does mess up the first batch on accident.

His brother doesn’t seem too mad, thankfully, and they make another one. He’d probably never admit it, but he actually has some fun decorating them, and him and Niles compete whose are prettier.

Amanda declares Niles the winner, but Connor doesn’t mind, throwing flour into his brother’s face until it’s time to clean up and start cooking dinner.

They’re sat down at the table, digging into chicken and roasted potatoes when the doorbell rings.

“That’s gotta be Silas!” Niles exclaims, standing up with so much force that he almost throws over his chair.

“Not so hasty,” Amanda chastises him, to no avail. He’s already out of the room and pulling open the door.

“Silas!”

A loud “Oof” can be heard as well as the sound of someone being pulled into a bone-crushing hug and dropping a suitcase.

Connor can’t help but chuckle, picking up another piece of potato with his fork and stuffing it into his mouth when he notices his mother glaring at him slightly.

Moments later both Niles and Silas enter the living room, Silas sans coat and scarf he had probably worn on arrival. His luggage is nowhere to be seen either.

“Mom, Connor,” he nods.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Silas. Sit down, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Once everyone is seated again, Silas is bombarded with the same questions Connor was last evening. How was his flight? How is Detroit? Is work going well? Has he met anyone?

Most of his answers are short and almost dismissive and Connor can’t help but be concerned. 

It’s not him that voices it first, though.

“Silas, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he groans. “I just had a long flight and the weirdest fucking encounter this morning.”

“Language!”

“Sorry, mom.”

“Weird encounter?” Niles pipes up, and Connor can see the curiosity in his eyes. If there’s anything his brother likes, besides Christmas, it’s a good story.

“Yeah, some weirdo at the coffee shop this morning. I just really wanted to get something hot to drink, and this idiot stops dead in his tracks right in front of me,” he huffs.

“Tried to grab me and sh— stuff, and was convinced that he’s my soulmate or something. Even ran after me when I told him to f— leave me alone and gave me his number. Obviously I—”

“Oh god,” Niles says.

“Huh?”

“What did the man look like?”

Fuck. It dawns on Connor where his brother is going with this. Could it have been…? But wouldn’t that be too much of a coincidence? Sure that’d be—

“I don’t know, shorter than me? Maybe 5’9? 5’10? Couldn’t tell. Brown hair, can’t remember his eye color. Stubble, a —”

“Did he have a soulmark on his cheek?”

“I was about to get to that! Yes, he did. How the hell do you know that.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Connor.”

“That’s him! I can’t —”

“Who?”

He basically pushes his hand into Silas’ face. “My soulmate.”

“You’re meaning to tell me that the dumbass that ruined my morning is your soulmate? Fate really has to hate you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Boys.”

“Sorry mom,” both Connor and Silas say in unison.

“Did he say anything about his name?”

“Gavin, that’s it.”

Damn. At least they had the city, or the general area now and — 

“Wait,” Niles interrupts his thoughts.

“Didn’t you say something about a phone number?”

“Yeah, he gave me his number,” Silas rolls his eyes.

“That’s awesome, Connor, you can contact him, it’s really a —”

“If you say Christmas miracle one more time I swear to god —”

“Can you please focus on dinner?”

“In a second, mom. Silas, just give me his number and i’ll leave you alone on this.”

“I can’t,” he shrugs.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I threw it away.”

“You— You threw it away?!”

“Yeah! I thought he was some random weirdo! He never called me by your name, how was I supposed to know?”

“I can’t believe you threw his number away!”

“Connor, calm down—”

He stands up. 

“I've lost my appetite.”

His jaw feels tense, his eyes hot and burning. And if there’s a tear or two when he drops down onto the bed and buries his face in his pillow, no one has to know.

He doesn't know how to fix this.

Gavin probably thinks he wants nothing to do with him, assumes that Silas was him.

Hadn't it been just yesterday when he made the decision to really pursue this?

Well, he thinks, that decision just got taken from him.

It's not late yet, not enough to go to bed especially with how long he's slept in, but he can't bring himself to go back outside, to look Silas in the eyes and see Niles' sympathetic expression and get lectured by their mother that he's behaving like a child.

She's right, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it. 

Eventually he gets up at least and changes into sleepwear. Throwing himself into work is the easiest option right now, and that's what he does.

At least twice he checks Simon's contact and the post they had set up, but there's nothing. No message, barely any reaction to the thread.

It feels like a lost cause.

So he works, until his eyes are burning from tiredness and his movements are starting to slow down and only then, he finally goes to bed.

His sleep is fitful, and when he wakes up the next morning he's unsure what to do. 

But Connor can't avoid his brother forever, so breakfast it is.

There's no pancakes today and no sign of Niles or Silas or Amanda. It's peaceful and quiet in the house and Connor can't remember the last time he's been somewhere this calm.

When Silas eventually comes into the kitchen, looking as tired and grumpy as he always has in the morning, Connor ignores him.

This doesn't change over the next few days, no matter how much Niles begs him and how much Amanda chastises him.

He feels hurt, betrayed in a way, even though his logical brain knows that Silas couldn't have known.

But now the problem isn't just that he has to find his soulmate, it's that there's a high chance that his soulmate doesn't want to be found anymore.

Still, he frantically searches the web for a Detective named Gavin from in and around Detroit and finds multiple ones, just not the one he's looking for.

The rest of the time he spends moping around or working, maybe occasionally helping in the kitchen.

They're at the dinner table the day before Christmas Eve when Niles suddenly slams his hands down, startling everyone.

"Hank Anderson!" He exclaims. Everyone throws him a puzzled look.

"Who?" Silas asks. 

"Hank. Anderson. Used to live right across the street? Moved away when —" Niles stops. Out of the three siblings, Cole's death had hit him the hardest, having babysat the boy a few times when he was in high school and later at the very beginning of college.

There's a solemn silence for a few seconds.

"What about him?" Silas asks eventually.

"Doesn't he live in Detroit?"

"And?"

"He works for the police," Niles stresses.

"You think…?" Connor can't help the hope that starts stirring in him.

"That he might know Gavin! I don't know why I didn't think of it as soon as we heard he's from Detroit."

"Niles, that's brilliant!"

"I know," he smirks. "I think I still have him on Facebook, we can shoot him a message. After dinner," he adds when Amanda's warning look falls onto him.

"That'd… that'd be great."

It's still a long-shot, but even if Hank doesn't know Gavin, there's the chance that one of his colleagues does.

He should've thought of this earlier, probably should've… he probably should've tried harder to stay in touch with Hank, current situation disregarded.

The man had been sort of a father figure for the boys, had even let Connor visit the station once when he was twelve and considering law enforcement.

But life hadn't played out that way.

His mood has improved drastically, now that he feels like there's a solution, a real chance, especially after Simon had told him that the Chicago PD had refused to tell him anything.

Connor can't remember the last time he had wolfed down his food at such a speed, and once everyone is finished him and Niles and to his surprise, Silas, settle down on the couch with Niles' laptop again.

Hank's Facebook page hasn't been updated in a while, the last one being a photo he was tagged in from what Connor assumes was a Christmas party at the PD, around two years ago. The picture is blurry and unfocused, and none of the people in it seem to be Gavin.

Despite that, he's jittery with excitement as Niles scours the page.

"Is his phone number listed?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, be patient."

"There," Silas chimes in, pointing at the screen.

"Do you think it's still current?"

"Only one way to find out," Niles says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Let's call the number."

He dialls and puts the phone on speaker. It rings a few times, and there's a nervous anticipation in Connor's stomach.

What if this doesn't work? What if this does work and Gavin is so hurt he doesn't want to talk to him?

Then, someone picks up.

"Hank Anderson, if you're trying to sell something, fuck off," a gruff voice answers.

He sounds more grumpy than Connor remembers, but it's been years, probably almost a decade since he last heard him. Things change a lot during that time.

"Hank this is Niles Stern. How are you doing?"

"Niles? Well, that's someone I didn't expect. Doing alright. There's gotta be a reason for this sudden call."

In the background, Connor can hear a dog barking.

"Is that Sumo?" He smiles.

"Connor, that you?"

"Yes," he smiles.

"Yeah that's Sumo. The old boy is still alive and kicking, but he's got a lot less energy now. Last time you seen him he was still a pup, I think."

"I'm glad to hear he's well."

"Hank, I'm sorry to bother you," Niles interrupts. He's right, Sumo (and some much needed catching up) can wait, they're on a mission right now. Next to him, Silas tries to looks unbothered but Connor can tell he's invested in this now as well.

"But do you know any police officers named Gavin?"

"I know two of those. Whaddaya what from them?"

"Is any of them a Detective? Dark brown hair, a few inches under 6 foot." Connor hesitates for a second. "Soulmark across his cheek?"

"I'll be damned, what the hell do you want with the prick?"

"So you know him!"

"More than I want to, trust me."

"Hank, do you have a picture of him anywhere?"

"What?" Connor asks, confused.

"Because we need to double check to confirm it's him, idiot," Silas speaks up for the first time.

"Okay, this is getting weird."

"Sorry," the three brothers say in unison.

"But this is important," Niles stresses.

There's a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, I've got a picture of the whole precinct somewhere, wait."

He goes quiet for a second.

"Where the hell did you even get my number from? I'm pretty sure it's changed since I last heard from you."

"Facebook," Niles replies nonchalantly.

"Mhm. I found it, but can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?

Wait," he says before any of them can explain.

"That mark in his cheek is new, don't tell me one of y'all gave that to him."

"Connor did," Niles grins.

"And right in time for Christmas."

"Festive as always. I can't believe this."

Niles' phone dings, and he opens the picture Hank sent.

It's a group photo of two dozen or more police officers, detectives and what not, and right in the corner, between a tall, dark-skinned man and a rather short Asian woman stands Gavin.

"It's him!" Connor exclaims.

"Awesome," Silas says with feigned indifference.

"That's great, kid."

"Thank you so much, Hank."

"How come you had to call me to find him, though?"

"It's— it's a long story," Niles chuckles.

"I'm sure Connor will be willing to tell you once we've got this sorted out."

"I'm counting on that." He can hear the smile in Hank's voice.

"The guy has been moping about the station for days now, snapped at me when I tried to ask what happened."

"Sorry." Silas sounds genuinely apologetic, Connor notices.

"We'll fix this," Niles promises.

"Whatever happened sounds like one hell of a story."

"Kind of is."

"Do you want his number? Or should I give him yours?"

Connor ponders for a moment.

"Give him mine? I'm sure he's pretty upset right now and I don't want him to get mad at you for just giving out his number. Tell him… tell him I want to talk to him, and to please call me as soon as possible."

"Will do, son."

Connor quickly lists his number and waits patiently while Hank repeats it to confirm.

"Alright. Anything else?"

"Say hi to Sumo from me?"

"From me too!"

"Yeah, from me too."

Hank laughs. "Will do. I'll go text Reed and then you'll have this mess sorted out in no time. I can't wait to hear the whole story."

"It's probably not as interesting as you think," Connor says sheepishly.

"I'm sure it's a good one."

He smiles, not just because he's happy, elated even about finally having a chance to fix the whole situation, but he hadn't realised that he had actually missed Hank quite a bit.

"I'll call you soon and we can catch up, okay?" He promises, and his brothers nod.

"We will," Niles chimes in.

"Glad to hear that you guys are still a package deal. Say hello to your mom from me."

"Consider it done!"

"Thanks. Merry Christmas to you."

"Merry Christmas!" They respond at the same time. Then, Hank hangs up and all they can do now is wait.

It's agonizing, trying to kill the time until Gavin hopefully calls him. Or texts him. Or anything. When Niles reminds him that it's almost 11 p.m. in Detroit by now Connor is absolutely ready to tear his hair out.

He hadn't even considered the time difference, Gavin might already be asleep or at least not responding to or even reading Hank's text.

The two don't seem to have the best relationship.

But what if he read the text, and decided he wants nothing to do with Connor? Maybe they should've told Hank about the incident with Silas so he could tell Gavin. Maybe he should've just asked for Gavin's number, decency be damned.

Amanda joins them on the couch for a while, but excuses herself again pretty soon. There's a smile on her face, however, when they relay Hank's greeting to her.

Connor barely registers the movie that his brothers put on in the background at some point until it's over and Silas lightly elbows him into his side.

"Don't think too hard about it," he says.

Silas' own soulmark is invisible to him right now, located on his lower arm where his soulmate had bumped into him.

Connor had never met her, but Silas seems to be happy as is.

"That's kind of hard," he responds, watching as Niles flips through Netflix for another movie.

"He'll call. Or text. And if he doesn't, then he's not worth your time."

"Thanks. I hope he does, though."

"I'm sure he will. He seemed hell-bent on finding you, back when I met him in Detroit."

"What if that changes, though?"

"Connor, I can't promise you anything. But worrying about this won't make it happen faster."

He sighs.

"You're right."

"Of course I am. How about we make some popcorn while Niles finds one of his terrible horror movies?"

"Hey!" Niles protests, making Silas laugh. "They're not terrible."

"They are," Connor grins.

"Screw you, both of you."

It's midnight when the second movie is over, and by the time they're done laughing about the so bad it's good movie Niles had picked out, he's almost forgotten that he's waiting for a call or text.

Almost.

He can feel his eyelids dropping by now, and when Silas excuses himself to go to bed, he decides to go too. Hopefully Niles will follow soon after, he thinks as he enters his room and starts changing.

It's past 3 am right now in Detroit. Is Gavin still awake? He's probably sleeping, Connor assumes.

What if he's awake and knows Connor is waiting for him to call and doesn't, out of spite for what happened with Silas whom he still assumes to be Connor?

He sits down on his bed, phone in hand, staring at it as if he could make a text appear by the sheer power of his will.

What if Gavin does call, but only to let him know that he isn't interested? His stomach lurches and his chest feels heavy.

The wait is killing him, slowly driving him insane. So he gathers all his resolve and puts away his phone on the nightstand and plugs it in before throwing himself into bed.

As soon as he shuts the lights and feels the heavy cover above him he starts feeling calmer.

The scent of his is the same as the one of his childhood, and slowly, ever so slowly, he feels himself being lulled into an almost peaceful sleep.

Right when he dozes off, he hears something ringing.

It can't be morning already, he thinks, trying to hit the snooze button on his alarm which is obviously not there. The only thing he can find is his phone and wait — that's definitely not the sound of his alarm clock.

His phone is ringing, and there's an unknown number on the display.

When the realization hits he almost drops it. There's only one person, only one reason he can think of, that would call him now.

With shaky fingers, he picks up the call.

"Connor Stern?" He answers with more confidence than he feels.

"What do you want from me?"

_It's Gavin_.

Relief floods through him and he forgets to speak, just stared at the wall in front of him, dumbfounded.

"Hello? I'm gonna hang up again."

"No, please don't," Connor manages.

"Then tell me what the fuck you want. First you're all friendly with me at O'Hare, then when I see you in Detroit you act like you want nothing to do with me, and now you want me to call you? I don't fucking get you, man."

"That wasn't me!" Connor blurts out.

"It sure as hell looked like you."

"It wasn't. It wasn't, I promise. It was my brother. He lives in Detroit."

"You and your brother must look exactly the same, then." There's still scepticism in Gavin's voice, and Connor can't blame him.

"We do! His name is Silas and he's a bit of a dick. I'm sorry if he was rude to you."

"You promise me that wasn't you?"

"Yes."

A second of silence follows, then: "Alright."

Connor lets out a shaky breath in relief, and can't help smiling when Gavin continues talking.

"So, uh, twins, huh? That must be really fucking weird."

"Triplets, actually."

"What the fuck."

He laughs.

"Yeah, it's — it's weird sometimes but they did help me find you again," Connor says softly.

"Guess I'll have to thank them. My brother tried to help too, tried to bribe the airline for your name."

"Really?" He's both amused and bewildered.

"Yeah," Gavin chuckles.

"You know, I was ready to yell at Hank when he called me at 11 pm but — I'm glad he did. I'm glad you, y'know, you actually want to get to know me and stuff.

At least — at least I assume you do?"

Gavin sounds as nervous as Connor feels, and he can't help but laugh quietly.

"I wouldn't have asked you to call me if I didn't. I don't — I don't know if — if this is going to go anywhere," he states, ringing for words. "But I want to try and see where it leads us."

"That's more than I was able to hope for the past few days," Gavin replies quietly.

Connor smiles.

Even though he knows that it's way past 3 am for Gavin he can't stop talking to him, and they stay on the phone until it's almost 2 am in Oregon.

Gavin assures him it's fine multiple times, that he doesn't have work tomorrow and that he's slept less.

In the end, it's Connor who eventually gets tired enough to hang up, but not without the promise to call again.

And he does.

Again, and again.

Much to the annoyance of his brothers and his mother, even though he can tell they don't mean it.

For the first time in forever, he feels like he's really enjoying Christmas. Laughing with his family and sending Gavin stupid pictures of them baking and wearing ridiculous, christmas-y hats and one of Niles right after Connor throws a snowball at his face.

In turn, he receives more cat pictures than he can count and even if it wasn't for the fact that they seem to get along greatly, he jokes, he'd want to meet Gavin again just for the cats.

He's back in Chicago soon after Christmas, decked out with a new, ugly Christmas sweater and multiple boxes full of cookies from Niles. There, he endures North getting mad at him for not telling her anything, before telling her everything.

She's happy for him, of course, until Markus' annual New Year's party. There he spends the night in one of the many bathrooms, chatting to Gavin on the phone instead of bitching with her as usual.

He's even kept his promise to Hank and told him everything, and told him how he's been doing in Chicago.

And he can't wait to see both of them soon, he thinks, as he boards his flight to Detroit in late January.

One more hour.

He smiles.

Maybe there really is such a thing as Christmas miracles.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first bit <3 don't forget to leave me your thoughts and feel free to drop by and talk to me on tumblr [@berry--blonde](https://berry--blonde.tumblr.com)! I'm always happy to hear from you guys <3


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